


Whispers & Healing Wounds

by VulpusTumultum



Series: Tumblr Promptfics [10]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Battle Injuries, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt, sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 02:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4330491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpusTumultum/pseuds/VulpusTumultum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a promptlist called "Signs of Affection",  a request for Dorian x Bull, involving <i>Something Whispered</i></p>
<p>Iron Bull was injured badly in a dragon fight, Dorian's arrived at the camp where he and the others who'd been with the Inquisitor are resting up and healing, and both may be surprised about feelings a little more quiet than their usual encounters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whispers & Healing Wounds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ferus_Domina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ferus_Domina/gifts).



“It's my fault, Dorian, I really didn't expect two dragons to be nesting so blighted close together- and the red Templars have barely been a problem in their small numbers left. I wanted to _finish_ clearing them out, make sure none got away- I rushed to push on, and we walked _right_ into the second one's front gate just about, while still barely over the first fight. I was such a stubborn fool-”

The Inquisitor shifted how she stood outside the tent, both out of guilt, and because the healing available at this camp wasn't so plentiful that she'd allowed much used on _her_ compared to everyone else that had nearly gotten killed. Dorian was fairly sure that Dagna's best work or not, armor as cracked, frozen, singed, and burned as hers had gotten couldn't possibly have protected her from all the extreme heat and cold a pair of dragons plus any of their brood could visit. Also, of course, there were the chunks missing entirely, possibly due to talons.

Dorian swore internally again, he and the others who had come out to the Emprise in a second group as the usual backup so the Inquisition party could change and everyone- except the Inquisitor- could get some rest had been badly delayed on the road by weather and attacks to deal with on their own. Hardly anyone's fault, and of _course_ Trevelyan had pushed ahead, if there had been no clear warnings of the kind of danger multiple high dragons posed from locals or scouts.

“Get some rest yourself, Inquisitor, you _are_ one of the most driven people I've ever met who doesn't also cackle madly and have some sort of national or world domination plan outlined, but I doubt anyone else would have expected this or handled it better- that all of you actually made it out _alive_ if not unharmed is you having handled it better than I think most would have. I've been told by others already that he will be fine, given a little more time, healing spells and potions. The same I think being said for _you,_ so to help your peace of mind, I'll take over watching the literally bigger stubborn fool.”

“Maybe if everyone keeps reminding her,” came a familiar, if much quieter than usual voice from the tent, “That I had _fun,_ she'll stop fussing.”

Dorian rolled his eyes heavenwards as Trevelyan actually got a slightly sheepish smile off that, and he shooed her away and ducked into the tent, settling himself to sit by the warrior. He had to admit, it _looked_ bad, considering all the bandages and blankets, and sharp smell of elfroot potions and salves in the air- and the bits of still clearly burned skin that _had_ been healed that were visible hinted that things had indeed been much, much worse. He wasn't quite prepared, for all the admittedly sudden freezing up his mind had done when they heard at a lower camp that the Inquisitor's party was in bad shape, to actually see the Tal-Vashoth in what amounted to a rather helpless position made something inside him twist and lurch even more unpleasantly.

“What, I look that bad even to you? Relax, no serious breaks, I'm not gonna have even another limp out of this. Maybe a bit of a scar or two, but you don't visit at Skyhold because I'm _prettier_ than you,” Bull smirked meaningfully, and Dorian considered- briefly- throwing his hands up in disgust and just leaving the tent again. He wasn't entirely sure what gave him pause, maybe something about the glaze in his obnoxious, ridiculous, utterly impossible to deal with, somehow more-than-occasional lover and... perhaps _friend's_ eye. Or that his voice was just above a whisper when not trying to force it to be loud enough to be heard outside the tent.

There was, of course, no way he couldn't be in pain, but it was certainly the big oaf's way to try and downplay it so no one was fretting and worrying.

“Shut up and let me just sit here and appreciate that you survived along with everyone else,” Dorian said softly instead, “You'll find another moment to ruin, for whatever makes up your strange sense of humor or sense of how the world should see you, I'm sure.”

Bull blinked, and for a moment looked like he was going to try another comment, but instead, he relaxed slowly, and there was a brief, quiet chuckle as he decided _not_ to risk ruining the moment.

Dorian's hand on his was something pleasant to focus on, over everything else.


End file.
